DUDE.

I just found a fifty-dollar bill I didn't know I had in the tail of my anteater bank!

Actually, the Hubby looked inside the bank and saw it, because it was kind of wedged back there.

So. There's four paychecks between now and Mile Hi Con. Where, I remind you, Jim Butcher and Tim Powers are the guests of honor.

I may yet try to get to this thing.

DUDE.

I just found a fifty-dollar bill I didn't know I had in the tail of my anteater bank!

Actually, the Hubby looked inside the bank and saw it, because it was kind of wedged back there.

So. There's four paychecks between now and Mile Hi Con. Where, I remind you, Jim Butcher and Tim Powers are the guests of honor.

I may yet try to get to this thing.

You know...

Actually thinking about my actual plot before I'm eleven thousand words into a story might actually be a good idea.

I need to figure out who my actual bad guy is and what form the industrial espionage is actually taking.

And then I might be able to actually sit and actually write the actual story. And I might start thinking I'm actually smart.

You know...

Actually thinking about my actual plot before I'm eleven thousand words into a story might actually be a good idea.

I need to figure out who my actual bad guy is and what form the industrial espionage is actually taking.

And then I might be able to actually sit and actually write the actual story. And I might start thinking I'm actually smart.

So, here's what my outline would look like...

If I, you know, outlined.

Ben gets the snot beat out of him. Snark. Werewolf. Banter. Party. More snark. Creepy stalking. Crap, that guy's hurt, like, a lot. Oh shit, Alex's been shot. Gah, I've been woken from a sound sleep to find out he's been shot. Exposition. And snark. More werewolf. Hey, he's awake. More snark and banter. Also, crying. Hey, look, more snark, banter, and exposition. Werewolf. Intruder alert, call the cops. Go to bed, Alex, weren't you just shot in the lung a few hours ago? Snark. Cops. Oops, not cops. Snark. OHSHITBEN. Doctor, nanotech, hey, operating theater in the basement because Alex hates hospitals, how convenient. Wake up, Alex. Go to bed, Megan. Snark. Exposition: Did you know Ben is ex-military? Yeah, it was touch-and-go for a bit, but he'll be fine. Yay. Villain! He's a werewolf too.

Is there a plot in there? This is reminding me of the bad old days in high school where I just wrote whatever came into my head at the time, and most of that consisted of scene after scene of a character getting the shit beat out of him for no apparent reason.

There may be a plot in here crying to get out, but it's being an elusive little bugger. *shakes Antubis* I've written 56 words today (in fiction, not counting wanking--me, mainly, being anal--and other assorted LJ posts). And they suck.

*sigh*

So, here's what my outline would look like...

If I, you know, outlined.

Ben gets the snot beat out of him. Snark. Werewolf. Banter. Party. More snark. Creepy stalking. Crap, that guy's hurt, like, a lot. Oh shit, Alex's been shot. Gah, I've been woken from a sound sleep to find out he's been shot. Exposition. And snark. More werewolf. Hey, he's awake. More snark and banter. Also, crying. Hey, look, more snark, banter, and exposition. Werewolf. Intruder alert, call the cops. Go to bed, Alex, weren't you just shot in the lung a few hours ago? Snark. Cops. Oops, not cops. Snark. OHSHITBEN. Doctor, nanotech, hey, operating theater in the basement because Alex hates hospitals, how convenient. Wake up, Alex. Go to bed, Megan. Snark. Exposition: Did you know Ben is ex-military? Yeah, it was touch-and-go for a bit, but he'll be fine. Yay. Villain! He's a werewolf too.

Is there a plot in there? This is reminding me of the bad old days in high school where I just wrote whatever came into my head at the time, and most of that consisted of scene after scene of a character getting the shit beat out of him for no apparent reason.

There may be a plot in here crying to get out, but it's being an elusive little bugger. *shakes Antubis* I've written 56 words today (in fiction, not counting wanking--me, mainly, being anal--and other assorted LJ posts). And they suck.

*sigh*